


Dinner at Club Inamorati

by sapphose



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:09:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27135724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphose/pseuds/sapphose
Summary: Agent Bashir is on a mission, but Garak has an issue with one of the program's requirements...For Trektober Day #21: Fake Dating
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Comments: 19
Kudos: 84
Collections: Trektober 2020





	Dinner at Club Inamorati

**Author's Note:**

> Huge enormous thanks to plain_and_simple_tailor (ectogeo)! You are the reason this fic got written :)

“Why can’t we simply be two colleagues?”

“Because the club isn’t for colleagues, or companions, or any other word you can come up with for platonic friends,” Julian explained. Again.

“We got into the other club without this pretense,” Garak sniffed primly.

Julian’s working theory was that Garak was not half as prudish as he pretended to be, and behaved that way mainly because it gave him a chance to be contrary.

“That was when I had Anastasia pretending to be my wife, remember? Besides, this is a different club, and for this one you have to be with a romantic partner.” It would be the same set dressing and background characters, of course, just with a different name. Felix kept practical considerations like program memory in mind when designing new missions.

“That makes no sense.” Garak’s tone was accusatory, as if Julian had ever claimed otherwise. In fact, the lack of sense was one of the things he enjoyed about the genre. It allowed him to turn his brain off, in a way he never could in the real world.

“It doesn’t have to. It’s a fantasy, and this particular fantasy involves romance. You’re the one who was so desperate to get a glimpse into my inner psyche, well, here it is.”

“I expected your inner psyche to have better taste in literary conventions.”

“I don’t know why, since you never do anything but complain about the books I give you.”

“I didn’t realize the kind of drivel you’ve been sparing me from.”

“We’re already ten minutes in to my reservation for that drivel. Are you joining, or am I going on without you?” Considering they were already standing in the Hong Kong apartment, outfitted in tuxedos and old-fashioned guns, Julian was fairly confident he knew the answer. Garak was merely taking the opportunity for a good argument.

“With a holographic wife? Have some dignity, doctor.”

“Maybe there’s not much room for dignity in my fantasy, either.”

Garak agreed in the end, and Julian tried to give the order to resume program with only half as much smugness as he actually felt.

As predicted, the exterior of Club Inamorati looked identical to the Club Ingenue.

“You think they could have at least improved the decorating,” Garak commented disapprovingly. Julian flashed him a grin and slipped an arm around his waist.

“Come on, _darling_. I’ll be sure to go back in time and tell past humans how much you dislike their aesthetic choices.”

“Knowing the kind of nonsense that happens whenever you leave the station, I wouldn’t be surprised if you do.”

Julian chose not to respond to that, instead addressing the mustachioed man at the entrance who was watching them appraisingly.

“The dove flies at dusk,” Julian said with authority. The other man, recognizing the code phrase, bowed his head and stepped aside to allow them entry.

Garak made a sound suspiciously like a snort, or perhaps a suppressed snicker, but said nothing.

Going further into the inner chamber of the building, Julian realized that the interior had been changed more than he expected. The lights were quite dim, for one thing. Couples sat on low loveseats or at round tables lit by flickering candles. They were all immaculately dressed in diamonds and tails, and they were all, Julian noted with some trepidation, _touching_ each other quite a lot.

It was to be expected, given the pretense. Still, glancing sideways over at Garak, Julian was starting to regret his blithe insistence that Garak come along.

Garak caught the look, and gave Julian a smile that was a little too sharp for comfort.

They settled in at one of the tables, and a buxom blonde immediately fetched them a bottle of champagne and two flutes. Julian poured, trying to look more confident than he felt. This was his world, Agent Bashir’s world, and he was in charge of what happened in it.

“Describe the man we should be looking for, Doctor,” Garak requested, examining the room over the rim of his glass.

“Tall, dark hair, goatee, scar on the right side of his face,” Julian recited. “I don’t think he’s come in yet.”

“Then we had better blend in.” With that smile that felt almost sinister, Garak pulled his chair closer to Julian's and moved his face only inches away. “It wouldn’t do to stand out,” he purred into Julian’s ear.

Julian’s heart rate skyrocketed, but he held himself still through sheer force of will.

The only option he could see was to fight fire with fire. He had started this, and he wasn’t going to back out now. They had been flirting with each other over lunch for years at this point, a little touching was hardly going to destroy him. (Probably.)

Under the table, Julian began slowly stroking his hand along Garak’s thigh, increasing the pressure as he went.

“You’ve got a better angle on the door,” he murmured, low and soft and close. For good measure, he mirrored his hand’s action with his foot, dragging the toe down Garak’s calf.

“I’ll watch closely.” Garak slid one arm over Julian’s shoulders, while the other hand reached up and traced a finger from Julian’s chin, up his jawline, into his hair, smoothing down curls.

Julian felt feverish, but bravely kept up, leaning into the touch. His heart pounded in his throat.

A little touching might, in fact, destroy him, but what a way to go.

Julian nuzzled Garak’s neck ridge, searching for Garak’s pulse point. Was he as affected as Julian? It would be monstrously unfair if not.

Fingers returned to his chin, lifting and tilting so he was face to face with Garak once more.

“The door-” Garak began, but broke off, because Julian was kissing him.

Julian had not planned to do that. Had considered it, secretly and privately, but had thought it would be too far. But looking into Garak’s eyes, centimeters away from Garak’s lips… Instinct took over.

Garak made a sound that, coming from anyone else, Julian would have called a moan. Julian brought both of his hands up to cradle Garak’s maxillary ridges, and probed his tongue between Garak’s lips, craving _more_.

Then, just as abruptly as it had begun, it was over.

Garak jerked his head back and ordered, “Computer, end program.”

He stood immediately, while Julian, disoriented, fell on his rear when the chair disappeared.

“Wait, hold on.” He clambered to stand and catch Garak, who was swiftly stalking away. “Garak, _wait_.”

Unthinking, he reached out and grabbed Garak’s wrist. Garak twisted his arm free and turned around with flashing eyes.

“Hands to yourself, if you please, Doctor,” he snapped.

Julian took a step back.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “That was out of line, I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t have gone so far.”

“No need to apologize. I know how seriously you take your _game_.” Garak’s tone dripped with disdain.

Julian hesitated. The safest thing to do, the thing he always did when someone else on the station pulled him aside to give him a well-intentioned word of warning about how Cardassians flirted, was to say that he didn’t mean it, not really. That he and Garak flirted with each other for fun, never because they wanted something more.

“I wasn’t-” Julian swallowed hard. “I wasn’t doing it for the game, Garak. I wanted to kiss you. I have for a long time now. I should have said something first, I know, but… Well, if you aren’t interested, I hope you can forgive me. And if you are, I hope I haven’t made too much a mess of things.”

“There’s no need to try and spare my feelings, Doctor.”

“I’m not. I like you quite a lot, Garak.” More than he should, probably. “I’ve made a terrible beginning of this. Look, can I try again? Lunch tomorrow?”

“Will we need to fake a relationship in order to enter the replimat?” Garak’s face still looked neutral, but the teasing question was a good sign. Julian’s stomach unclenched slightly.

“No, but I was thinking maybe a change of pace. Say, the Celestial Cafe.” If it was a date, he was determined to do it properly.

“Very well, Doctor. Tomorrow at the Celestial Cafe.” Garak watched him for a moment seriously, then leaned in, and in a flash dropped a feather light kiss on Julian’s lips.

He was out the door before Julian had time to properly react, but the kiss felt like a promising beginning, a sign of good, real things to come.


End file.
